


Friendships Are Built Upon Food Fights

by megster



Series: In These Small Hours [3]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:35:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megster/pseuds/megster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes when Darcy runs out of things to say, she gets flustered. Sometimes when Darcy gets flustered, she starts food fights with experts in gamma radiation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendships Are Built Upon Food Fights

**Author's Note:**

> Totally pointless once again, but I love Bruce and Darcy too much. Can be read as a pairing or just friendship at this point. Also Clint and Darcy are total bros.

Darcy sort of prances into the kitchen for breakfast. Living in the Avengers Tower is totally agreeing with her. It’s _awesome_. And if she’s lucky, someone will have already have started the coffee pot and- _yes_.

“Clint, I love you,” she announces loudly, stealing the cup of coffee he’d already prepared. She’d learned early on that she and Clint took their coffee the same way- black and sweet.

He mock-glares at her, but she knows he doesn’t mind because he lets her take the mug. “Darcy,” he says. “Do you even know how to make yourself a coffee?”

“Of course,” she says, offended. “But if you’ll do it for me, why bother? Want some toast?” Because she really does appreciate him letting her steal his coffee for the third consecutive morning. 

“Please and thank you,” Clint says, seating himself at the table with his new cup.

Darcy pops some bread into the toaster- more than is necessary, but she expects that a few of the others will filter in at some point.

“Hey, Clint,” she says.

“Hmm?” He glances up at her.

“Why does Bruce avoid me? Is it because I talk too much? Because, I mean, I get it, sometimes I talk about random things and people can’t keep up with me, especially when I get started on like, shoes, or something, but I’m really not that bad. Or is it because I’m kind of touchy? I swear I only grab at your ass for fun, it’s not something I do on a regular basis-”

Clint cuts her off. “It’s not you, Darce.”

It is a little weird to know that she and arguably the best assassin in the world (there’s always Natasha) are on a first name basis, but Darcy adapts fast.

“Um, then what is it? If he has a problem with me, that’s fine, whatever, I’ll leave him alone.”

“It really isn’t you,” Clint says firmly. “I think maybe he’s a little concerned that you don’t seem to know who he is.”

“He’s Bruce Banner?” Darcy says, now unsure. “Or is he someone else? Because if that shy scientist dude isn’t Bruce Banner, then you _all_ have some explaining to do.”

And now Clint is almost laughing at her. He’s not actually laughing, but she can totally tell when he’s dying to burst out into giggles, and he is _totally_ there. “ _Darcy_. He’s definitely Bruce Banner. J.A.R.V.I.S., are you recording this conversation? Because this girl is hilarious.”

“I am, indeed, recording, Agent Barton.” J.A.R.V.I.S. says dryly. “And if Miss Lewis would like to discuss this with Dr. Banner himself, he is currently in the kitchen on his floor.”

Darcy thinks about it. What’s the worst that can happen? Absolute worst-case-scenario, she gets to meet the Hulk. And she’s been wanting to meet the green guy anyway. Besides, if she gets into trouble there are five other superheroes in the building who will _probably_ come save her. She’s definitely sure Clint will, and so will Tony. So, okay. She’s going to get Bruce Banner to talk to her if it kills her.

 “I’ll see you later,” she says to Clint, snatching her piece of toast and sock-skating to the elevator.

“Thanks for the tip, J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Darcy says in the elevator.

“My pleasure, Miss Lewis,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says, and Darcy wonders what her mother would say if she knew Darcy was holding a conversation with the world’s first and only true AI.

Darcy exits the elevator on Bruce’s level and follows J.A.R.V.I.S.’s instructions to get to the kitchen.

The kitchen is smaller than the one on the common floor, but that’s to be expected.

Bruce is standing at the stove, a weary set to his shoulders. He has his back to Darcy, so he doesn’t notice her until she clears her throat.

“Jesus Christ,” he says, whirling around with a spatula in his hand. “What are you _doing_?”

She shrugs and goes to sit at the little table. “I don’t know,” she says. “Thought you might want a little company. J.A.R.V.I.S. said you were up here all by your lonesome.”

“Leave me out of it, Miss Lewis,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says.

Darcy glares at the ceiling, then the walls. She isn’t really sure _where_ to glare, but she sort of gives a general one.

Bruce is just giving her a look that says he thinks she’s crazy.

“Okay,” she says. “Truth is, I came here because I’ve lived in the tower for almost a month and you and I have barely even met. I just wanted to know why you’re avoiding me. Like, I am _really_ not that bad a person, and I’m even sort of smart and I have a good steady job with S.H.I.E.L.D. now so I am totally kind of respectable.”

“Darcy,” he says. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“Bullshit,” Darcy says, lifting her chin to look straight at him. If she’s lucky, she looks intimidating. Or at least, you know, sort of angry. “You are _too_ avoiding me. Two nights ago I walked into the home theatre and you walked straight out.”

“Darcy,” Bruce says slowly. “It isn’t because of you. I mean, it isn’t you specifically. I don’t tend to spend time around other people if I can help it.”

“You spend time with the Avengers,” Darcy points out, trying not to sound hurt. But seriously, you’d think there’s something wrong with her or something.

“Okay,” Bruce says. “But they’re not civilians.”

“I’m _almost_ a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent! Why won’t you be my friend? All of the other Avengers are my friends!” Darcy thinks for a moment. “Well, maybe not Natasha. But even Natasha sort of likes me!”

Something changes in Bruce’s face. “Darcy. You can’t _honestly_ tell me you’re not afraid of me.”

“Dr. Banner,” she says, and honestly, for a genius he isn’t that bright. “I spend time with two assassins, one demigod, one supersoldier, and an occasionally demented genius in a robot suit. I also work for the most terrifyingly competent agent _ever_ , and I work in close quarters with Nick Fury. I do not spend my time being afraid of people.”

“Call me Bruce,” says Bruce. And then he sort of gives her this little frown, and she’s not sure what it means. “You know,” he says pointedly. “When I get angry, I tend to turn into this enormous out-of-control green monster.”

She shrugs. “When I get angry, I tend to scream into my pillow, get dangerously drunk, and occasionally perform at seedy karaoke bars.” She considers what she just said. “Jane probably approves of your way more than mine.”

He stares at her for a moment, and Darcy can’t help noting that he has nice eyes- brown and expressive and a little sad. “Well,” he says eventually. “Would you like an omelet?”

Darcy perks up. “Yes, _please_ ,” she says enthusiastically. “You know, Clint says you’re an awesome cook, and I am not going to lie to you because I believe in relationships built on the foundation of trust. Part of the reason I came to see if you’d be my friend is because I was wondering if you’d make me food! Because Tony gets motor oil in everything he makes and Steve only makes boring things and Thor only knows how to toast pop tarts on a _good_ day and I guess Natasha and Clint are passable but I always worry vaguely about Natasha slipping in arsenic or something.”

Bruce stares at her again. “You know,” he says conversationally, “When most people find out about the Hulk, they tend to back away a bit.”

“I am not most people,” Darcy announces, cramming her toast into her mouth as she waits for her omelet.

*          *          *

“J.A.R.V.I.S., where’s Bruce?” It occurs to Tony that Bruce is usually in the lab by now.

“He and Miss Lewis are getting acquainted,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says, and Tony swears he detects a note of prim satisfaction in his AI’s voice.

“Livestream,” Tony demands.

A video feed comes up of Darcy and Bruce sitting at Bruce’s kitchen table, eating something. And _talking_. 

Tony takes note of both of their body languages. Darcy looks like she always does, relaxed and enthusiastic, gesturing as she tells Bruce something. For his part, Bruce looks like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and Tony can tell he’s engaging in the conversation remarkably well.

Tony’s not blind, and he’s noticed that with most people, Bruce makes a conscious effort to hold himself back a little- just in case. With Tony himself, the timidness dissipates, but even with the other Avengers, Bruce occasionally draws back.

He’s pleased to see that Bruce is totally at ease with Darcy. 

“Thank you, J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Tony says, and the video feed disappears.

*          *          *

Darcy is endlessly pleased to find out that mild-mannered doesn’t necessarily mean _boring_. Bruce, once he wraps his head around the fact that Darcy isn’t going to leave him alone, is remarkably interesting. He tells her stories about people he’s met while he was on the run, and she tells him about the first time she and Jane met Thor (“I totally tased the Norse god of thunder, which is _totally_ cool and I can’t even tell people because nobody in their right minds would believe me!”).

He’s a good listener, too, always smiling and nodding at the right places.

They are finished with their omelets when Bruce suddenly seems to realize that he’s spent nearly an hour bantering with her.

He sort of stiffens, and Darcy stifles a groan. They were _just_ starting to get somewhere, and now he’s going to retreat? Nuh-uh. 

She’s not quite sure what possesses her, but she goes for the open bottle of ketchup on the table and squirts a liberal amount of ketchup onto him.

He gapes at her.

“It was this or Tabasco,” Darcy says, flinging leftover pieces of egg at him, “And I thought Tabasco was a little hazardous.”

Bruce looks like he isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry, but then to Darcy’s delight, he loads his spoon with salsa and launches it at her. She squeals a little and looks for more ammunition.

A few minutes later, both Darcy and Bruce are completely covered in flour and sugar and ketchup and eggs and several other unrecognizable liquids.

Darcy is giggling madly, because this is _certainly_ one of the strangest ideas she has ever had, to have a food fight with Bruce Banner. Jane will about die when she hears.

Bruce is also laughing helplessly, and his entire face lights up when he laughs. Darcy takes note of this, and thinks to herself that she might want to see him laugh again.

They settle down presently and take in the scene. Darcy winces a little at the mess they’ve made, but she thinks that maybe Tony can make some robot that will clean it.

“You know, you’re the second person _ever_ who hasn’t been afraid of me.” 

He sounds a little bitter and a _lot_ sad, and Darcy just wants to give him a hug. “Um,” she says, “Most people are idiots. Out of curiosity, who’s the other person?”

Bruce’s lips quirk into a fond smile. “Tony,” he says.

“Mmm, that makes sense,” Darcy says.

At Bruce’s raised eyebrow, she explains, “I’ve noticed that he has a tendency to, you know, poke at things that shouldn’t be poked.”

Bruce unexpectedly grins. “He came at me with a cattle prod once, trying to get me to Hulk out.”

Darcy laughs. “Did it work?”

Bruce shakes his head. “No, because I knew Tony wasn’t a threat.”

“There you go,” Darcy says thoughtfully. “That’s why I’m not afraid. I’m not a threat to you, so why should I be worried? Can we make a deal?”

“What is it?” Bruce looks at her warily.

“If I promise to never start a food fight in your kitchen again, will you promise not to avoid me? I’m not afraid of you, I’m not afraid of the Hulk, and it turns out that you’re pretty awesome _and_ a good cook, and I’m not wiling to let that go just because you occasionally get a little green around the gills.” Darcy looks at him, widening her eyes just a little bit. Jane calls it her demented puppy look, but it works on Clint, so...

Bruce smiles at her. “I can live with that.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Darcy says happily. “This is so exciting. I can’t wait to tell Jane! You know, when I came up here I sort of wanted to meet the Hulk.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Bruce says wryly. “Now maybe we should get cleaned up?”

*          *          *

The next morning, Darcy is endlessly pleased to find Bruce in the common kitchen. She snatches Clint’s cup of coffee again (but, huh, he used her favorite mug. Maybe he’s starting to catch on.), politely refuses Thor’s offered poptart, and jams some bread into the toaster. 

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully, taking a drag from the coffee.

Bruce mumbles good morning, Thor booms, “Good morning, fair lady Darcy,” and Clint waves at her.

“Clint,” she says, grinning. “Me and Bruce are total _bros_ now. We had a food fight and everything!”

Clint outright laughs. “Is that what J.A.R.V.I.S. was grumbling to Pepper about yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Darcy says. “It was _awesome_.”

When Natasha ghosts into the kitchen and sees Bruce and Darcy bickering over the salsa, she curses and hands Clint ten bucks. 

Darcy raises an eyebrow, but she’s pretty sure she’s not at it as good as Coulson is. 

“Me and Tasha had a running bet on how long it took you to bully Bruce into being your friend,” Clint explains. “I had under a month, she had at least five weeks.” 

“J.A.R.V.I.S. helped her,” Natasha says, and Darcy swears she sounds a little like she’s whining. “That’s not fair.” Yep. Definitely whining.

“Only ten dollars,” Clint says. “Don’t be a baby.” He barely has time to react as Natasha launches herself at him, and soon the two assassins/ninjas/agents/whatever-the-fuck-they-are are rolling around on the floor wrestling.

Steve nearly trips on them on his way in, but barely seems to notice them as he sits down with a newspaper. “Five letter word for an unintelligent person?” He says out loud.

“ _Clint_ ,” Natasha says flatly as they continue wrestling.

At some point, Tony wanders in, looking like he hasn’t slept in at least a week, and Bruce has to gently direct him to a chair, where he immediately falls asleep.

Darcy watches the tableau in front of her and thinks that her life has gotten very weird since New Mexico indeed.


End file.
